The Pianist
by FateIsNot
Summary: A pianist trying to become more on his move to France from Germany, finds that simply taking his place in the opera house, would be a change in his life. Forever.


He slowly blinked as he stood there, on the porch of a small, seemingly run down, train station, on this cloudy, and gray day, outside a small village. Near the area of Dortmund, Germany, if it needed to be known. One large, black suit case next to him, another on his other side, matching it. Both simply keeping on the ground without him bothering to hold them up. He took a quick glance at the ticking clock that out stretched from the rim of one of the wooden pillars. Hm. Train should be coming within less then five minutes. He made no move to crouch down and grip the belongings. He simply stared ahead once more, licking his lips quickly, trying to keep his nevers down.

This is it. Finally. France. It will be his new home, right when he enters the train, there was no returning. Thoughts slowly began to peak within his mind. Will he be able to actually do well in the country? Will he be able to find a good, sturdy home to resign in? Will things work in his favor, go as he planned? He took in a deep breath, then, let it out. Calm yourself, calm yourself. No need to jump about in you head right now, things will fall together over time. There is no need to worry. France will make a fine home for him. A fine place to become known in the arts of music, not his small village. Here, he would get no where. In Germany, there was not as much of a chance, rather if he went to a city as big as Berlin or not. This leap of faith had to be made.

The pianist had to remind himself just those few things. Alexander Von Hilig, had to remind himself. However it could not be blamed that he was tense about the whole situation. So much was going into his whole move. In fact, his life. All this money he had saved, these hopes that were becoming restless.

His emerald orbs became alert. Then, his ears prickled at the very sound. The whistle of the train. His head shifted to the side, seeing the smoke from afar, as the large metal transporter began to gain at the station. He kept his eyes upon the white and gray clouds coming from the top. That is, until he was called.

"Alexander…!"

His head shifted again, further to his side, as a woman's voice rang for him. He knew it well. Someone he had known for the past nine years, of his nineteen year old life. A elderly woman, in a dark blue dress, making way near him. He turned the rest of his body.

"Aunt Angalin."

He reutned calmly. He did not really think the woman would come to see him out of the country. She was not really one for compassion in particular, in all truth. Never had been. She was usually a stern woman, not one to give sorrow even in the darkest of times, to frown no less, or even one to offer a shoulder to cry on.

They had their little goodbye back at the small house where he and his aunt resigned. A simple goodbye, then a nod. He supposed that the cold feature to her is what actually made her strong. She had somewhat raised Alexander to be the same way. The young man, though, was not as strict over hiding his feelings as much. If he was sad, he would frown, yet barely ever shed a tear. If he is needed to comfort, he would do so, and was not as poor at it as some may think of him to be. He knew to keep a stern face as she did, but, did not always actually do so. He was more understanding then her, more open minded, to which may be half of the reason why this change in life came to his attention. This change of moving away from Germany.

But, it seems, that the trait failed her at this point, as she made way for him in a quick walk, face sturdy and clear. While her eyes showed different. Something that, again, was never shown before Alexander. Sadness. It puzzled him, but, only for a moment. The stare of question went away from his face there and then as he looked down at her in a calm manner, him being at the hight of 6'1", the aunt, being inches shorter. Nearly a foot.

He was always polite to her. Adding either, "Yes ma'am", or, "No ma'am", rarely ever talking back. He would do the same, to those he respected at least, or to simply be polite.

And though both worked, they barely had extra money to spare. All in all, they were poor. They used clothing either handed down by family in order to have something on their backs, or, they would have to go to the stores that either had very low sales on clothes, but they mostly went to buy clothes that were sold in rather cheep stores. As for food, well, they managed to at least have a full meal on the table, which was nice. There were those times when they had a home made cake every now and then, but, it was rare. Others, they were not so lucky, for when land rent came about, they had to go at least a week or more before they had a full meal again.

To which was why it was such a speechless surprise when his aunt bought him a Grand Piano at the age of twelve to play his music. He remembered well. He woke up, on the day of his birthday. Shifting in a lazy manner as he always did, he stood. His aunt calling for him in the kitchen. Of course, he got dressed, and went from his room to obtain the food she made. He had to go in the livingroom first, and, there it was. A perfect, shining, black Grand Piano. Boldly sitting in the open, waiting for him… It was the most bright day for him, after all that had happened two years before. He could play the music once more. And, also see, that his aunt did have a soft side to her.

Now they were here. He had to leave his precious piano behind (to which brought sadness and a sting to his hurt, though he wouldn't admit it), years later. He was going to become more then a piano player. He was to become a well known pianist. All around Europe. And, if the heavens be will, the world.

When she was in front of him, she looked him over, as if to check and see if he was dressed properly, to which he was. Not the most exquisite clothes, but, it was all that could be afforded. A simple thin white, buttoned up collared shirt, gray dress pants, black dress shoes (which were a bit worn, but it was not too noticeable), and a long black coat to which ended at his knees. It may not be much, but, considering that they had little money most of the time (though he had worked two jobs in the near city, along with schooling himself most of his life, and most of all and important, playing and practicing on the piano). It was good enough. Or at least he thought.

The woman rose her frail hands, gripping the collar of his coat lightly, giving it a few light tugs in order to make it ever the more presentable. Alexander glanced at the action, but thought nothing or said nothing over the matter. Only let her do as she wished to help him seem better. So, then, after the few tugs, she took a small step away, looking over him again. A short pause.

"You look well, Alexander. Keep it that way… When you get to France, however, be sure to buy yourself new clothing with the extra money I gave you. Understood?"

She asked as she folded her hands before herself, staring at him, as sadness still showed in her brown hues. He stared back. The pianist was not as sad to leave her. He knew that she would do well on her own, she had before he had ever come about. Then again the woman raised him. Maybe he should give a thank you for her hardships. So, giving a quick nod, as the train finally began to pull up to the station, and stop in it's tracks, he replied.

"Yes ma'am… Thank you. For everything. I know that if all of my plans just happen to pull through, even in the slightest, I will be sure to have you moved to Paris, if you will allow it?"

Alexander offered his only aunt. She gave a shake of her head.

"No. My place is here. Yours is not. Be sure to remember that much, young man. But… What you can do for me, is write at least once a week. Give me every detail of your adventures. Let me know if you are well, or, ill." Another pause, before she shifted her head more upward, trying to hold back the frown that was threatening to come across her face. "And, most of all, be safe."

The young man did not respond as quickly as she may have wanted him to. But, no less, he did. He gave a slow nod as a part of his answer.

"Yes ma'am. I will be sure to. I promise."

He simply responded. She did not say anything after that reply. But, the sadness within her seemed to have lighten its load. To which was good, on both of their parts.

She was about to go on, until, the train gave its warning whistle. Alexander quickly turned his head to the side to look over his shoulder, and at the large thing while also taking notice that everyone was already aboard. Then he turned his head once more, facing the old woman who also looked over at the large metal thing. Yet when she noticed his attention rested on her again, she returned the favor, more alert. The burden of sorrow growing stronger in her.

"Hurry, you must go! The train will not wait!"

She warned. Alexander crouched down, grabbing his bags. Taking one last look at her, he paused. As if to ask her permission to take his leave. Her lips pursed, but she gave a nod no less. Then he turned, heading for the train without taking another look. That was their final fair well, most likely. From what he thought at least. Quickly taking each step up on the train, he went to enter the cabin. Until he heard his aunt call for him once more.

"Alexander!"

He stopped in his tracks, peeking out from the corner somewhat as he stood. The train gave its last whistle, to which meant it would now be moving, and, did. Slowly, for now. His aunt took a few steps forward, lifting her dress only a tad bit as she did so to be sure that she would not trip. She frowned. Now as they finally departed, to which may be, forever. He did find it a bit strange, considering her very person. But accepted it no less. Even if he did not wish to see a sorrowful stare upon his leaving her. He wished she would have that stern expression as she always did before, but, kept it to himself, a small frown coming across him as well.

"Do great! BE great! Do you understand me, young man?! There will be no failure upon this family's name!"

She shouted as the sounds of the transporter drowned out her voice. The younger could hear her no less.

"Yes ma'am!"

He called back. Finlay the train had picked up its speed. She shouted again, but, he could not hear her what so ever. They were too far apart, and, the sounds finally over powered her calls. He blinked slowly, wondering what she could have said. There was nothing he could do to find out. Unless he sends a letter to her after he makes port in Paris, to which he would be sure to do. A deep sigh escaping from him, he turned himself around once more, finally heading into the cabin, cases still at hand. He would now simply have to wait until he finally made it to the country that would be his new home.

Once inside, he took quick notice to how warm it was compared to outside. He was a small bit grateful for the warmth.

The section of the train that he had taken place in was not really expensive. Because it was second from being last rate. First class was up front. He had no sort of money for such a fine cabin. Transportation was transportation, and, this did fine.

Taking a quick glance around, he noticed that there were few people. Even if there were more, he would not mind. People did not fully bother him after all, so long as they did not have a sort of trait in them that he did not enjoy.

Because there were few, there were more then enough open seats. So, picking one, he went down the lane, the pianist stopping where he wished to take place, putting the bags over head. He then sat, going into the inner pocket of his coat to retrieve the ticket inside. He paused for a moment when his fingers brushed over something familiar to him. Blinking a few times, he gripped it, before pulling the object out. Unfolding his fingers, he looked at his palm and there; a golden pocket watch, its chain following it from the outside to the inside of the coat. Upon the covering, beautiful carvings. With detail and perfection. Made of pure gold. He slowly blinked as he stared. If he would have sold it, he would have much more money on his hands ineed. Enough to buy a large house, or, half of anything he may wish. But the pianist would NEVER. This watch. It was priceless. If something ever happened to it, he did not even know what he would do.

Letting out a small, quiet sigh, he pressed the small button that was a top of it. It opened. Hm. Still didn't work. No surprise. Thing had always been broken. No matter. The reason over why it was so precious could be seen on the inside seal of the small pocket watch itself. It read "Ludwig Hilig" and below it also read "Feleca Hilig". His parents, no doubt. It was a sort of gift his mother and father had given to him when he was a young child. He thought he must have broken it himself at some point, but, just did not remember. A small smile brushed over his lips from the very thought. But, just as quickly, it went away. Then, he closed the seal, moving it back within the pocket of his inner coat, shifting his fingers to where they now gripped the ticket. Pulling it out, he held it in his hand as he leaned on the wall somewhat to make himself comfortable, waiting for the ticket pusher to come about and take it from him.

The pianist would have to make himself comfortable anyway. It would be a few days before he finally would make it to Paris. And there were no small rooms for him, or any other of the lower class, to take place in and rest. Only the cushion benches and tables. He didn't mind. So long as he made it to France..

_A journey I will go on…_

_Alone, with so little, though that is what it has been like for so long._

_But I will have no fear for the world._

_I will have no fear for what waits for me._

_For the path, I make myself, no matter how irredeemable it may seem, I will tame it_

_I will manage._

_I will be fine._

_I will stand my ground._

_I will decide where life will take me._

_For my honor, for the family name, for my passion, for my music_

_My path will remain tamed._

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**If you enjoyed, please do review**! **Let me know if I should go on with this or not**!

Based on The Phantom of the Opera, 2004 movie. I own nothing.


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